Hogan's Ghost
by Alone on a Pumpkin
Summary: Back by request. Sorry if your review was lost..all were appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

"Robert?" The voice was so soft it was more a thought than a sound.

His eyelids fluttered, dark lashes against pale skin, but settled back into stillness after a few moments.

"Robert?" The voice came a bit louder this time, pulling lightly at his consciousness like a fine thread.

He stretched his legs and arched his back, groaning luxuriously, but pulled the covers closer beneath his chin and slid stubbornly back into his dreams.

"Robert. Darling. Please."

Fuzzy awareness finally came to him. He blinked away sleep, rolled over, and automatically reached out to pull her closer to him.

His hand gently found her dark hair, cool and soft on the pillow. He tangled his fingers into its smooth strands, then turned his head toward her. He could feel warmth against his face as she breathed, in and out, still caught in the slow cadences of sleep.

She was sleeping. But she had said his name, had drawled it really, stretching out the two syllables into many more in her syrupy voice. At least he had thought she'd said his name. _Maybe I've been dreaming_, he thought. _Maybe I just wanted to hear her voice again so badly, after all these years, that I imagined it_.

_All these years_? he thought. _But she's right here. So close and so warm._ He tilted his head to just the right angle, the angle they'd worked out that kept their noses from bumping, and brushed his lips against hers.

He felt her mouth awaken beneath his, felt her tug gently on his lower lip, then run her tongue lightly along his teeth. Not too hard, not too fast, he warned himself, although every inch of him screamed out for her. She did this to him, had done so since the first time they met when she had been the new girl his freshman year in high school. Almost five years ago that seemed like forever and yet like no time at all had passed.

_Annie? _

"Yes, Robert."

_I love you, Annie._

"I love you too, Robert. But I have to go for now." She kissed him on the cheek, slid out of bed, and lit the lamp on the table. It cast a gentle, steady glow on the rough walls of his room.

_Go? Where do you have to go, right now? In the middle of the night?_

"You went. Now it's my turn."

_Don't go, Annie. Please._

She turned toward him. "I have to, Robert. I just needed to see you again."

_Annie?_

He reached out, mouth suddenly cold and dry, but his hands found nothing but coarse blankets. His chest felt empty, as if all the air had been slammed out of him.

_Annie?_

He jumped out of bed, heart racing, bare feet thumping against the wooden floor. The bedding fell in shambles off the side of the bunk.

She was leaving, slipping through the door that led from his office and private sleeping place. Fading away from him. _Again?_

"Annie!" he yelled. His voice echoed off the hard planes of the room and settled slowly back to rest.

"Goodbye, Robert," she whispered. And she was gone.

"Goodbye?" he said. "Goodbye?" He ran to the door she had gone through and put his hand on the latch to open it, then thought, _This is crazy. Just crazy_. He stood there a moment, then went back to his bunk, sat down, and ran his hands over the still-warm depression in the mattress where he had just lain. Or where they had just lain together. He wasn't sure which.

A soft knock came at his office door. "Is anything wrong, Colonel?" said a sleepy voice, muffled through the heavy wood.

Colonel Robert Hogan sighed. "Nothing's wrong, Carter. Go back to bed." His heart still racing, he began to untangle the blankets that now lay spilled off the bed onto the floor.

"I thought I saw a lady coming out of there, Colonel. Boy, I must be crackers, huh, sir?"

Hogan stood up so fast he almost hit his head on the upper bunk, but he controlled his voice long enough to say, "You must be, Carter. Must be that lack of sleep."

"Oh. Yes, sir. Well, goodnight." Footsteps pattered away from the office, then Hogan heard a creak as Carter swung himself into his bunk.

"Goodnight," said Hogan. He sat on his office chair, wrapped a blanket around himself, and wished he could keep the lamp lit until morning came without drawing the attention of the guard. Because he knew he couldn't, he reached over, his hands trembling, and extinguished it gently.

* * *

A few days later, Kinchloe sidled up to Hogan, who was leaning against the side of the barracks watching some trucks roll into camp.

"Colonel, I got just off the radio with London," Kinchloe said quietly.

Hogan looked around, then nodded his head toward the barracks door. "Let's head inside," he said.

Kinchloe inclined his head slowly, walked to the door, and pushed it open for Hogan, who entered and sat down at the wooden table in the center of the room. Kinchloe sat beside him, and some of the other men gathered around.

"What have we got?" asked Hogan.

"One of our planes was shot down last night. Only one survivor. We're gonna go get him, bring him through here, and get him back home," said Kinchloe.

Hogan nodded. "Sounds pretty routine." He pushed his chair back. "LeBeau, Carter, you'll go out tonight and pick him up. He can stay in the tunnel until London can send a plane for him."

LeBeau nodded, his arms crossed. "Oui, Colonel."

Hogan stood. "Well, gentlemen, let's set out the welcome mat for tonight." The other men scattered around the room to make preparations for the night's mission.

-continued-


	2. Chapter 2

After evening roll call, LeBeau and Carter went down the tunnel. It was lit by flickering cylindrical lamps, which filled the windowless space with the faint odor of oily smoke. When they reached the stairs, LeBeau climbed up first, then carefully pushed up the top of the tree stump that hid the tunnel exit and peeked out to see if they were being observed. He didn't see anyone, so he motioned for Carter to come up.

They closed the stump, then ducked beside it to avoid the light from the camp's guard tower. Then they listened for a moment, decided no one had seen them, and began to move through the woods as quietly as they could in the dark, their boots sending up a damp, earthy scent as they walked. Leaves rustled faintly against their jackets, and insects buzzed and chirped in the trees.

When they got to the meeting place, two men were waiting for them.

"Is this the road to Hammelburg?" said LeBeau carefully. Carter kept his hand on the gun at his side as he watched the area around them.

The taller man stepped forward. "It is difficult to tell with no moonlight," he said in a German accent.

LeBeau smiled. "You have a package for us?"

"All wrapped up and ready for London," said the man, guiding a smaller man forward. "Be careful. They've been rounding people up day and night near here. Auf wiedersehen." He nodded at them and slipped away into the woods.

The smaller man approached LeBeau and Carter hesitantly. He looked very young, and his face was bruised and scratched.

"You're taking me to a prison camp?" he said in a thin voice as they started walking toward the tunnel. He limped slightly.

"Not just any prison camp," said Carter, a smile on his face that had been darkened with black grease. "Stalag 13. Where there has never been an escape!"

The man looked confused. "Then how…"

"Don't worry, we'll get you home." said LeBeau, slowing down to match the man's pace. "Did you hurt your leg?"

"I'll be okay," said the man.

All three of them ducked at the sharp crack of gunshots in the distance.

"How close was that?" asked Carter, pulling his gun out and covering the other two. LeBeau also had his gun out, and was looking around.

"Close enough," said LeBeau. "Let's get out of here!"

They walked as quickly as they could back to the tunnel entrance and got inside safely.

As they walked back along the tunnel, Carter said, "My name's Carter, and this is LeBeau. What's yours?"

"Flanagan," said the man, looking around the tunnel with an amazed expression on his face. "What's all this?"

"Just a little place we like to call home," said Carter as they rounded the bend toward the entrance to the barracks. "Here's my lab," he said, waving his arm at the table full of beakers and test tubes.

Flanagan stared. "Wow," he said. "What do you do with all that?"

"He blows things up," said LeBeau, elbowing Carter in the ribs.

Carter looked hurt. "Hey, I do more than that."

LeBeau smiled. "I'm just teasing you."

Flanagan wandered over to Kinchloe's radio area. "You've got radio?"

"Sure," said Carter. "That's how we knew to pick you up." He walked over to the trapdoor and banged on it, and soon the bed rose, the ladder moved into place, and Colonel Hogan climbed down into the tunnel.

Private Flanagan stood at attention and saluted.

"At ease, Private," said Colonel Hogan, snapping a salute at him. "What brings you to our humble abode?"

Flanagan relaxed slightly, but kept his back straight and his demeanor serious.

"I was headed home," he said, "when we drew fire and went down. The pilot and other crew died in the crash." He looked down at his boots. "I never saw anybody die before."

Carter and LeBeau lowered their heads, and Hogan said, "Unfortunately that's what happens in war. Why were you headed home?"

"Death in the family," said Flanagan quietly.

"Sorry to hear that," said Hogan. "We'll do our best to get you headed back on your way as soon as possible."

"Thank you, sir," said Flanagan.

"In the meantime, you'll sleep in the tunnel until we arrange for a plane to pick you up. Carter, LeBeau, get a cot set up for the private," said Hogan.

"Yes, sir," they said.

Hogan started up the ladder to the barracks, then turned back. "Goodnight, Private," he said.

"Goodnight, sir."

* * *

The next morning, Kinchloe climbed down the stairs to the tunnel and found Flanagan standing with his hands clasped behind his back looking at the radio equipment.

"You interested in radio, Private?" asked Kinchloe.

Flanagan turned around abruptly and saluted the sergeant. "Yes, sir," he said. "I haven't had a chance to learn much about it yet though."

Kinchloe sat down and turned on the set. "I need to get in touch with London and find out when they're sending a plane to pick you up. I'll show you how it works."

"Thank you, sir," said Flanagan. He sat down next to Kinchloe, who had his headphones on and began dialing in signals.

"Goldilocks, this is Papa Bear. Come in, Goldilocks," said Kinchloe.

"This is Goldilocks, Papa Bear."

"We have your porridge. When should we deliver it?"

The radio crackled with static. "2300, Papa Bear. In Baby Bear's crib. And watch out for the Big Bad Wolf. He's been seen in the area. Do you copy?"

"Copy," said Kinchloe. "Papa Bear over and out." He lifted the headphones off and set them on the table. "A plane will be here to pick you up tonight, Flanagan. I'll go up and tell Colonel Hogan."

"Thanks," said Flanagan. "What was that about the big bad wolf?"

"There's been a couple Krauts in the area rounding up people and executing them. They take them out in the woods, make them dig a ditch, and shoot them into it. Instant grave. We get missions to neutralize them once in a while."

Flanagan's eyes were wide. "Isn't that dangerous?" he asked.

Kinchloe snorted. "This is a war, Private. There are no guarantees. We're safe for now. Tomorrow, who knows?"

-continued-


	3. Chapter 3

Later that night, Hogan and Newkirk were in the tunnel with Flanagan preparing to take him to the plane. They were wearing black pants and turtlenecks with black caps on their heads, and they had smeared black grease on their faces.

"You ready, Private?" said Hogan.

"Yes sir," said Flanagan.

They went down the tunnel quickly. When they got to the exit they wanted, Newkirk climbed the ladder, pushed up the trapdoor cautiously, and looked around. "All clear, Colonel," he said.

"All right, let's go," said Hogan. He nodded at Flanagan to head up next, then he brought up the rear, carefully closing the trapdoor behind him to camouflage it. They crouched in the damp grass for a few moments to let their eyes get accustomed to the dark and to listen for any suspicious sounds. Nothing seemed out of place.

A fine mist veiled the woods just beyond them, but it wasn't thick enough to scrub the mission. When he felt confident that all was clear, Hogan nodded to the men and they got up slowly and made their way toward the trees that loomed up out of the fog as they approached.

They jerked their heads around when something cracked loudly somewhere behind them. A German soldier was marching behind a small group of people. "_Schnell, schnell_," he said, poking the gun into the back of the last person in the straggly line.

Hogan's group sank back into the long grass as quietly as they could and waited until the other group had passed. Then Hogan motioned toward the tunnel, and Newkirk nodded. Flanagan looked confused, but followed the other two men as they crept toward the tunnel entrance.

Another Nazi, who had been trailing behind the grim parade, saw them. "_There are some more over there. I will get them_," he shouted to the other. Then he started chasing them through the woods.

"Run!" said Hogan, and they did, but Flanagan was still limping and began to fall behind.

"Come on, Flanagan," muttered Hogan. He pulled out his gun, but before he and Newkirk could circle around, the Nazi caught Flanagan and began marching him toward the first group of prisoners as Hogan and Newkirk watched helplessly.

Hogan allowed himself a quiet "Damn it!" under his breath, and Newkirk gave him a questioning glance. Hogan nodded, and they waited a few moments then began following Flanagan and his captors.

The two Nazi soldiers stopped at a clearing in the woods and lined up their prisoners.

"_You will take those shovels and dig a trench_," the first one said in German. He aimed his gun at each one in turn. All except Flanagan picked up shovels and began to dig. The Nazi stalked over to him and put the gun in his face, and Flanagan quickly bent over to get a shovel like the others.

Hogan and Newkirk watched from a small thicket of pine trees. "You create a diversion, and I'll go in," said Hogan very quietly. Newkirk nodded and made his way around the perimeter to the other side.

It was a moonless night, and Hogan strained to see if he could pick up Newkirk's movements at all, but Newkirk was good at his job. Hogan saw and heard nothing.

Then Hogan felt cold, hard metal on the back of his neck. A frisson of adrenaline shot through him, but he willed himself to keep perfectly still.

"_Get up_," said the second Nazi from behind him.

Hogan stood.

"_Throw down your weapon and put your hands on your head."_

Hogan dropped his gun to the ground and did as he was told. The Nazi picked up Hogan's gun and put it in his own belt.

"_Now go over there and dig your grave_." The Nazi pushed him, and Hogan stumbled forward.

Flanagan looked up, saw Hogan, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but Hogan shook his head at him sharply. "Not now," he said. Then the Nazi struck him hard with the butt of the gun. Hogan's vision exploded into stars and he fell to the ground.

-continued-


	4. Chapter 4

After the stars had cleared, Hogan found himself seated at a table set with expensive-looking crystal and china. The tablecloth was deep blue and draped into his lap, almost hiding the napkin he had laid on his right leg. The remains of a steak dinner were on his plate, and a half-empty whiskey glass sat beside it. _I hope I enjoyed eating that because it looks like it was good_, he thought. He picked up the whiskey glass and drained it.

Annie came to the table, and Hogan stood and held her chair for her. She tucked her long blue skirt under her legs and sat down, then pulled out a cigarette and leaned toward Hogan.

"Got a light, sailor?" she said, winking at him. He pulled out a silver lighter, ignited it with a flourish, and held the flame under the tip of her cigarette until it lit with a quiet crackle. She drew in until the tip glowed orange, then slowly blew the smoke toward Hogan. It curled lazily around his head, and he watched her, fascinated, until she began to cough.

The corners of Hogan's eyes crinkled up as he held back a smile.

Annie giggled, and coughed some more. "Want to dance?" she said, holding out a gloved hand.

Hogan stood. "I think I'm supposed to ask you that," he said. He took the napkin from his lap and laid it on the table, then he got up, pulled Annie's chair out for her and took her hand. She flung the cigarette into the ashtray and followed him to the dance floor.

Her hand on his shoulder, his hand at her waist, they danced to a song that had been popular years before. As Annie sang along with the singer, Hogan looked down at her and smiled.

"You're beautiful," he said, pulling her closer to him.

She buried her face in his neck. "And you smell good," she said, voice muffled. "Like pine cones and leather and whiskey."

He laughed. "Annie, only you would know what pine cones smell like." She giggled.

After they had danced to a few songs, Annie said, "It's hot in here. I need to get some air."

"Let's go outside," he said. He guided her through the crowded room outside to a terrace that was full of potted plants and flowers, and they sat down on a small stone bench. Branches from a tree drooped around them, giving them some privacy. Hogan put his arm around her and she leaned against him and they sat there, enjoying the cool air and listening to the music they could still hear from inside.

"This is nice, isn't it," said Annie. "I love weddings. Maybe someday we'll have a wedding like this."

Hogan felt his muscles tense and willed himself to relax. "But we still haven't worked out that little problem, have we?"

Annie sighed. "I was hoping you'd changed your mind." She sat up straighter and leaned back against the bench.

Hogan shifted his weight and leaned toward her. "It's what I want to do, Annie. What I need to do. I want to make a career out of the Army. Learn to fly planes. Why can't you accept that?"

She moved away from him. "My brother died in the war. You know that. I can't stand to lose somebody else I…" her voice broke. "Somebody else I love so much."

"The war is over, Annie," said Hogan gently.

"There's always another war," she said. "You can count on that." A tear rolled down her cheek, and Hogan wiped it away with his fingers.

"Come here," he said, pulling her into his arms. She leaned against him, her tears dampening the front of his jacket. "I love you, Annie," he said. "I'd do anything for you…"

"You mean almost anything," she said, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief he handed her.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I feel like it's my duty. What I was born to do." Across the garden, the band started another song.

"What's more important, love or duty?" she said.

They stared at each other for a moment, then Hogan sighed and shook his head. "That's not fair."

"Then I guess I have my answer." She looked down. "Robert, someone else has been coming around to visit."

His stomach dropped. Hard and fast.

"Who?" he said.

"Donnie Flanagan. You remember him from high school?"

"Yes, I do." He worked to keep his voice steady.

"He works in an office. The worst he'll ever get hurt is a paper cut." She looked everywhere but at him. "He's nice enough."

Hogan felt panic rising within him, but controlled his words. "I see."

"He wants to marry me." She stared at a white chrysanthemum as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"And what did you tell him?" he said in carefully measured tones.

"I told him I was in love with you," she said.

"And what did he say?"

Annie turned and looked right at him. "He said you'd bring me nothing but trouble for the rest of my life."

Hogan snorted and stood. "That Donnie Flanagan is one smart fellow. You should listen to him." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it roughly, inhaled deeply, and blew it out in a huff. Then he threw the cigarette down on the pavement and stomped it out. Crossing his arms, he turned away from her.

She stood up and put her hand on his forearm. "But I want to marry you."

After a moment, he turned back toward her and sighed. "You'd never be happy with me, Annie. You need someone steady, someone safe, someone you don't have to worry about whether or not he's coming home." Hogan held her face between his hands and bent down to her. "I want you to be happy and safe." He kissed her.

_Liar_! he thought. _Oh my God, just tell her you love her and you can't live without her. Don't let her go._ But the words wouldn't come out.

Annie looked up at him. "So this is it?" Her voice quavered.

It was all he could do to nod gruffly and say, "It seems like it."

"But this is stupid, Robert! We love each other! We should be the ones getting married!"

"I agree. One hundred percent." He pulled her tightly against him, and she threw her arms around his neck, and they stood there clutching each other until the music stopped. When the band didn't start up again and all was quiet except for the gentle whisper of wind through the garden, Annie slid from his arms and ran through the wrought iron garden gate out to the street. She didn't come back.

He went back inside, ordered a double whiskey, and downed it in one shot.

* * *

-continued-


	5. Chapter 5 end

Back in the dark clearing in the woods, Hogan slowly regained consciousness. He didn't move, but he opened his eyes to slits to see what was going on. The trench was complete. The two Germans stood together, talking, still holding their guns trained on their captives. Flanagan stood next to him. He didn't know where Newkirk was.

Hogan heard Flanagan muttering under his breath, "_Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum."_

"_If that one doesn't get up soon so I can shoot him, I'll have to kick him into the hole_," the first Nazi said.

"_Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus_," whispered Flanagan.

The Nazis laughed, and then one began walking toward where Hogan lay motionless on the ground. Hogan could feel his boots strike the earth with each step.

"_Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus."_

Hogan opened his eyes again. He saw the Nazi coming toward him. He saw Flanagan's shovel lying right next to him.

"_Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen_._"_ Flanagan crossed himself.

A loud noise came from behind them. The Nazi spun around to see what it was. Hogan grabbed Flanagan's shovel and swung it at the backs of the soldier's knees as hard as he could. The Nazi fell to the ground, and Hogan jumped on him and took his gun, then took his own stolen gun and threw it to Flanagan, who caught it and spun around toward the second Nazi.

Newkirk ran out of the woods in front of them, pointed his gun at the second Nazi, and disarmed him. The Nazis' former captives scrambled away in different directions as fast as they could run.

"_Get in the hole,"_ said Hogan to the Nazi. He twisted the man's arms behind him and marched him over to the edge. Newkirk was doing the same from the other direction.

"What are you doing?" said Flanagan, with a horrified expression on his face.

"What has to be done," said Hogan. _Forgive me for what I have to do_, he thought. Then, with a single shot, he killed the Nazi and let his body drop into the hole. The body of the second Nazi fell beside him as Newkirk did the same.

"Help us bury them," Hogan said to Flanagan, who was standing there with his mouth hanging open. The three men quickly shoveled dirt into the hole, then when it was almost full, dropped the shovels in and buried them too. Flanagan crossed himself again. Then they kicked leaves and branches over the fresh earth.

"We may still have time to catch that plane," said Hogan. "Let's get over there." The men started walking cautiously away.

"At least we won't have to worry about those Krauts again," said Newkirk. "'ow on earth did you make that diversion, Colonel?"

"I thought it was you," said Hogan.

"No, sir, I was on the other side of the clearing," said Newkirk.

"Then what was it?" said Hogan.

Flanagan stopped walking and turned toward them. All the color had drained out of his face.

"Well, what is it, Flanagan?" said Hogan. "Speak up, Private!"

Flanagan swallowed hard. "I could have sworn I saw my mother make that noise."

Newkirk shook his head. "'e's a nutter. A nutter 'e is." He gave Flanagan a look. "Why on earth would your mum be back in the woods in Germany?"

"Especially since she just died, didn't she, Flanagan?" said Hogan evenly.

"Yes, she did," said Flanagan. "That's why I was going home."

"Let's get moving and get you home, then," said Hogan. He clapped the boy on the shoulder and they started walking toward the plane.

* * *

Hogan lay in his bed in the barracks. They had been in time for the plane after all, and they had loaded Flanagan into it, then watched it take off safely into the night and bank towards England.

Carter, LeBeau, and Kinchloe were taking turns standing watch and waking Hogan up every hour due to his head injury. In between awakenings, he snatched what sleep he could, despite the horrible headache that had slammed him after the adrenaline wore off.

Right before dawn, when he had finally fallen asleep, he felt a light touch brush his forehead.

"Carter, just let me sleep for a few minutes this time," he groused, swatting at the air near his face.

"I'm not Carter," said Annie.

Hogan opened his eyes wide. "This time I know I'm not dreaming." He watched as she sat down on the edge of his bed, barely visible in the faint light of daybreak. "Why are you here? How are you here?"

"I came to say goodbye, Robert." She leaned over him and pushed his hair back off his forehead. "I just needed to see you one more time. To tell you that you were right. Duty is more important than love. And because you did what you thought was right all those years ago, no matter what I said, you saved my son's life today."

Hogan reached out to touch her face. "And you saved mine." He stroked her cheek with one finger. "How can I touch you like this now? If you're…well…you know."

"It won't last much longer," she said gently. "Why don't we take advantage now? One last time?"

As he realized what she meant, he pulled her down next to him. Even though many years had passed, everything still felt so familiar—the feel of her body, the quiet sounds she made. When they had finished and she was lying in his arms, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "Can't you just stay here forever?"

_I've always been with you and I always will be_, she said, more a thought than a sound.

_You were wrong, you know_, he said. _Duty isn't more important than love. But for some of us, it's all we've got._

_Maybe we were both right_, she said, more faintly. _Robert, I have to go now. I love you…_

_I love you too, Annie. Will I ever see you again?_

_Hopefully not for a long time. But you will. And this time you'd better not mess it up!_ Her laughter grew fainter until it winked out completely and he was alone again.

A knock came at his door. "Colonel? Time to rise and shine! Are you feeling okay?" said Carter's voice.

"I'm okay, Carter," grumbled Hogan. "Now stop waking me up!" He threw his pillow at the door.

"Gee, sir, I've been up all night too. A little appreciation would be nice," said Carter.

"I'm kidding, Carter. Just kidding," said Hogan. "Can I please go back to sleep now?"

"I'll be back in an hour, Colonel. Good night."

"Good night, Carter. And thank you." Hogan got up to retrieve his pillow, then lay back down in his bunk to try to get some rest.

-end-


End file.
